Helen Macdonald’s celebrated memoir, H is for Hawk (Penguin Random House), left me with mixed feelings. The detail is exquisite, but the more I read, the clearer it became that I am fundamentally unsympathetic to falconry. I don’t relate to the furtiveness, the isolation, the obsession and the angst; I see nothing noble in ploughing through muddy fields, ripping clothes and flesh on brambles and fences, all for the purpose […]

Categories: BLOG: On my mind
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